


twinky little fuck

by freckledbuttchester



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 02:05:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckledbuttchester/pseuds/freckledbuttchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen walks in on a private moment of Misha's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	twinky little fuck

**Author's Note:**

> So, this came from Misha’s panel and his answer (or lack thereof) to the question of his most embarrassing story. He said the first two that came to mind were too explicit to tell, and we were talking about it after…and this idea happened. Haha. Basically, I think it would take something special for a man like Misha to get embarrassed about his sexual adventures. So yeah…I’m sorry. But not at all . (I am sorry for the complete lack of proof reading by anyone else actually)

Misha climbs the stairs of his trailer, sagging against the door to push it open and admit him entry. It’s been a long day; with a healthy dose of stunts and some heavy, intense dialogue in the scenes between Castiel and Dean. The scenes between their characters puts a strain on Misha’s voice from having to drop it down to a tone equivalent to gravel, and his throat feels used up, in his least favorite way. In addition to that, the chemistry between him and Jensen in those scenes was putting a strain on…other parts of him.

In a perfect world, right now, Misha would be pushing Jensen onto the couch in his trailer, straddling him, lips covering Jen’s to swallow up his quiet grunts and moans as they rocked against each other. He’d be tearing at “Dean’s” clothes, pawing through layers of flannels and struggling to push the jeans down just enough so he could drop between Jensen’s legs to swallow down his hard cock. Ideally, Misha would be left with even more of a sore throat, but satiated, with the taste of Jensen clinging to his lips.

 

But it’s definitely not a perfect world and life is far from fair. Jensen still has at least an hour of shooting his scenes with Jared before Misha has any hope of getting his hands on him. He lets out a sigh that’s just this side of melodramatic before he drops onto the couch, a whoosh of air his only accompaniment. But when he hears the crinkle of paper and a sharp corner digging into his ass as a reminder, the pout playing at his lips vanishes. He tilts his body, sliding his hand into the back pocket of his pants to pull out the paper he’d shoved in there earlier this afternoon. He’d almost forgotten about it; Jared coming out of his trailer at lunch, snorting as he waved the paper in Jensen’s slightly pink cheeked face. No idea how or why exactly Jared had been looking at a link to tumblr on his break, but somehow he’d come up with a link to a collage of Jensen’s younger days.

As Misha looks over the pictures again, he can’t help but smirk. “Young Jensen” is pretty much just a euphemism for “Twinky Jensen” as far as Misha’s concerned. There’s a plethora of shots of Jen with pouty lips striking serious poses, in white tank tops, a cowboy hat, and some truly heinous fashion choices, even by Misha’s standards. It’s a little incongruous to the man Misha knows, who’s sweet and playful to be sure, but a little reserved, and most certainly no twink. Jensen now is sharper features, rough stubble, and deep crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Which Misha loves, don’t get him wrong. But somehow seeing pictures of Jensen so young and smooth makes a coil of desire lazily flicker to life in the pit of his stomach. His eyes skim over the page in his hand, momentarily falling to rest on a group of shots that look like they were shot at a farm of some kind.

 

He idly realizes his free hand is grazing at the front of his pants, where he can feel his cock stiffening under his mild attentions. His eyes flick to the clock, and deciding he has more than enough leeway, he makes quick work of unzipping himself to pull himself free to wrap his palm around himself. He hardens in earnest and licks his lips as he trails his gaze over the pictures of a softer, smoother Jen. As he squeezes his cock a little tighter in the circle of his fingers, he imagines that pert little mouth, maybe a little smaller than the one he’s come to know, wrapping around it instead. His thumb slides over the slit at the head, and he pictures deft little fingers, free from calluses caused by guitar strings or stunt weapons, moving across it instead of his own.

He smears the pre come leaking from the tip of his cock and imagines Jensen with an eager young mouth, watering for his cock shoved deep inside of it. Sweat beads a little on his lower back, sliding down to the crack of his ass as his hips roll and he lightly bucks into his own hand. His breathing is a little more ragged, and when he glances at a picture of Jensen shirtless, being sprayed down by an unseen person, he lets his head fall to the back of the couch and his eyes fall shut. He tries to imagine the voice of this Jensen, not as deep, tones a little softer, and he groans when he pictures the sounds he might pull from a twink like this if he clamped teeth around a pink and stiffened nipple and sucked like his life depended on it.

 

His soft moans and heavy breaths are just loud enough to his own ears that he doesn’t register the steps on the stairs outside, or the creak of his trailer door. He’s too wrapped up in the thought of bruising and marking young Jensen’s smooth skin as easily as he would a peach to notice the added presence. The first sound he hears that brings the realization that he’s not alone is Jensen’s tentative, “Mish?”

His eyes fly open, hand stilling in its ministrations on his throbbing cock. He feels the pink of exertion painted on his neck flush to a deep crimson blush as it climbs to his face. The embarrassment crashes down on him in full force like a tsunami wave, as Jensen’s eyes flick from Misha’s face, to his exposed cock, and finally to the collage now resting on Misha’s stomach. He thanks whoever above for the small mercy in the fact that Jensen let the door swing shut behind him, hiding his lewd act from the view of any others, but he’s worried by the absolute stillness in Jensen. The only thing moving are his eyes, continually swinging back and forth between Misha’s hand around his cock and the paper splayed out on Misha’s body.

 

“So…you’re done early,” Misha manages to croak out, the only thing his mind can allow him to say right now.

 

That seems to snap something in Jensen because he makes a sudden 180 turn, hand reaching for the door. Misha scrambles, trying to tuck himself away and trying to form a coherent apology with a lust addled mind. But before he gets a single word out, the lock of the door clicks into place and Jensen is closing the minimal distance between them to drop to his knees in front of Misha. Jensen pulls his hands away from his attempts to recover himself, letting his cock spring free again. Jensen stares up at him, a look on his face that is too coy and innocent for the kind of fuck that Misha knows him to be, but Jen is a phenomenal actor after all.

 

“What do you want me to do Misha?” he asks, peering through his long lashes, and his voice is an octave higher and a little softer than it normally is. Just the knowledge that Jensen is purposefully doing that, just for him is enough to send a shudder through him.

“Suck my cock Jen,” Misha commands, voice broken and ragged from being so close to the edge, and the insane turn on of Jensen playing it all up.

 

Jensen complies without question, mouth wrapping around Misha’s cock and his cheeks hollowing as he bobs his head up and down. His mouth is tight and hot, and he’s letting out breathy little hums around Misha’s cock that are absolutely perfect. His hands clutch at the back of Jensen’s head, scrabbling for purchase as he tightens his hold onto the hair that he can. He babbles a little as he fucks Jensen’s face, something along the lines of  _Fuck yes, take it Jen, your lips were made for sucking cock, weren’t they? Fuuuuck yes. Yes, just like that, good boy Jensen…fuu-fuuuuck._

Between how close Misha was in the first place and Jensen’s talented tongue curling around him, it’s not long before Misha feels the pressure building inside him, his muscles seizing with the pleasurable tension and a spark tripping down his spine. He comes hard with a groan, giving no warning, but Jensen takes it like champ, swallowing around the pulsing end of Misha’s cock.

 

When Jensen pulls off with a wet slurp, Misha can only watch uselessly as Jensen slides up his torso to meet their mouths. When Jensen’s tongue slides past his lips, he realizes that Jensen didn’t swallow down all of his come, leaving enough lingering in his mouth to give it back to Misha. He hums a moan against Jensen’s lips, stirring a little to sit up and seal their lips tight as he accepts the taste of himself back. He searches Jensen’s mouth with a probing tongue, and once he’s cleaned himself out of it, he falls back again with a satisfied sigh.

His earlier picture kind of got turned around, with Jensen being the one on his knees and the taste of himself in his own mouth instead, but he can’t really complain when his legs feel like jelly, giving a couple final twitches as his heart rate returns to normal levels. Jensen lets his head fall to rest against Misha’s shoulder, and he can feel Jensen’s erection pressing hard through his jeans and resting against Misha’s leg. But he doesn’t seem to be in a rush, his right hand wrapped around Misha’s neck, thumb moving slowly at his jaw in a lazy pattern. After a minute, the movement stops, and Misha can feel the curve of Jensen’s mouth as he smiles, although he can’t see it.

 

“So, you’re into twinks?”


End file.
